Chapter 5

To the old man, it had been four years that felt as if it had passed in one day. Despite his heartfelt affection for Abu, he knew, in his last day with the boy, he must show strength and not waiver into sentimentality. That was for women, not warriors. He must remember that the plays Allah writes for the lives of his true believers are long and he is but one actor in this grand drama.

There were others already in place, ready to perform their parts. For the past year, the old man had been recruiting what he called his "Brotherhood of the Sword" and dispersing them to Abu future bases of action: Hawaii, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston and Washington. These were the best young men Islam had to offer. They were its strongest believers and were not the ignorant peasants used as terrorist but educated, reserved, self-controlled men who would do what they were told in an efficient and, if necessary, lethal way. Abu would never know of his guardian "angels" but would have need of their "services" more than once to smooth the way to his rise to power.

The path that the young "Guided One" would take once he left the breeding ground of Malaysia had been etched out by the mullah and his council. He would leave the nation of his youth and return to Hawaii and be schooled in American ways and culture. He would live with his maternal grandparents, happy to take in their first grandchild but ignorant of the grand scheme of which he was the tip of the spear. The old teacher had, over the past year, persistently whispered in the mother’s ear that Abu had exceeded the limits of the education available to him in the village and needed to spread his substantial intellectual wings in a more challenging environment. That would allow him to re-acclimate to American life, reacquaint himself with his grandparents and prepare for higher education, a goal his mother surely wanted. The clincher was that he, through an "unknown benefactor", had received a scholarship to the best prep school Hawaii had to over, Panatou Preparatory Academy. The harried working mother and newly wed had no idea from where this benevolence had come but had no reason to question it. She had always thought of her young son as specially blessed by Allah and this merely confirmed her delusion.

She had finally agreed to part with her child. She had married the consort arranged by the mullah and had given birth to a daughter by this time. With her work, her new Muslim husband and an infant to care for, she knew Abu would be safer and better cared for by her parents. With the old man’s assurances that he would continue contact with his prized pupil and provide for any of his needs in the faraway islands, she had finally consented to allow her young eagle to fly from the nest. Today would be the last day the teacher and student would ever meet.

It would take 2 days to travel from their remote village to Singapore where the fledgling leader would board his flight to America. He would leave after midday prayers so the old teacher had little time for his goodbye. He met Abu at the door of his hut, embraced him and went through the ritual they had practiced so many times of laying out the prayer rugs. Abu, now 10 years old, lead the dhuhr as he had been accustomed to doing for the past year. His voice was strong and the mullah was pleased with his rendition. Once completed, and the mats returned to their place, the final conversation between teacher and pupil commenced.

"I will miss you, my child, but this journey is part of your destiny."

Abu nodded attentively.

"You will be in a strange, often hostile place where you must depend on Allah, Praise be unto His Name, to guide and protect you. Many temptations will beckon you to step off the path for which you have prepared. But, when they do, remember that, though I am not there to caution you, I will be watching you in the dreams that Allah, Praise be unto His Name, sends to me in my sleep. Do not disappoint an old man and, more importantly, do not embarrass Islam, which has put so much faith in you. You will promise me this, yes?"

"I promise, grandfather" Abu said with conviction that pleased the old man.

"You have the words of the Qu’ran to bring you solace in the troubling times that will inevitably fall along your path. Keep up your study on the Words of Muhammad, Blessings on His Name, and you will be true to your brothers and sisters throughout the world. Their eyes will be on you, my son, and I am convinced their hopes and dreams are not misplaced. Are you, my son?"

"I will live the life you have taught me, grandfather and follow the words of our faith. I will make you and all of our believers proud. This I swear to you and all my brothers and sisters in Islam" Abu pronounced.

"You are enrolled in the finest school in Hawaii and there you will learn all that the West has to offer. Learn it well with no less diligence than you have applied to the Qu’ran. You must assimilate the world of the infidel in order to know best how to conquer it when that time comes. You must keep your own counsel and share our dreams with no one as there are no confidants among the unclean. Listen only to your inner voice for it has been trained in the true path. You are allowed the evils of the infidels (alcohol, smoking and the like) because your duty as a warrior for Allah, Praise be unto His Name, exceeds the rules of the ordinary Muslim. But, be cautious to always be in control of your habits for they can rule the spirit, if unchecked. Do understand these words, Abu?"

"Yes, grandfather, I understand that the strength of my beliefs and the discipline you have instilled in me will be tested at times. I am steeled for the task, my teacher. Your trust is not misplaced. I will become as the infidel dogs and they will love me and trust me. I am the actor who will construct their doom. I am the Sword of Salahudin, and will sharpen my blade even as I live among the Christian dogs." Abu’s face grew dark as he spoke these fierce words with such hostility that it brought a brief smile to the mullah’s wrinkled face.

The mullah embraced his young charge with a sense of pride and fulfillment he had never felt before. As he walked Abu to the door, he fought back not tears of sadness but tears of pride. He would not fall prey to the sentiment of the woman and the weak. No further words were to be spoken between the two. The old man walked Abu to the taxi waiting outside his hut. Abu’s mother and his half-sister were already in the back seat and his meager belongings were packed and ready for the flight.

As Abu turned to open the door, he turned back to the only man that existed in the tiny universe that was his old life. The young boy and the elder locked eyes and exchanged a thousand words with a glance. Just as quickly, Abu bounded into the car, closed the door and the car slowly accelerated down the dirt road.

The mullah closed the door to his hut and, alone for the first time in years, rolled out his own prayer mat. His words to Allah were not the specific, rote words of the Salah but a special prayer just between a man and his Deity. He prayed for 20 minutes. His knees ached as he rose and replaced the mat and tidied up the hut. He read the Qu’ran for the remainder of the day, undisturbed.

That night, the old man slept more soundly than he could ever remember and dreams were of battle and ultimate victory.